


Yellow Eyes

by coolattaz



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self-Aware
Genre: Autistic Tommy Coolatta, First Kiss, M/M, Pining, decided to untag gordon until the tag is split, gordon is very gay, the rest of the science team (plus benrey and darnold) are mentioned, tommy is also very gay but this is gordon's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26377906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolattaz/pseuds/coolattaz
Summary: He could have easily taken Gordon’s hands off of him, but he didn’t move at all. Just stared. With his beautiful glowing fucking yellow eyes. Staring right into Gordon’s soul.Gordon likes Tommy. Gordon doesn’t know how to deal with that fact.
Relationships: Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman, freelatta
Comments: 6
Kudos: 162





	Yellow Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> this is essentially my first fic so. enjoy
> 
> (originally posted on tumblr)

This was the worst day of Gordon’s life.

How long had it been since the resonance cascade? He had little grasp on time anymore, going to bed and waking without consideration for the actual time of day. He was sure it had been maybe a week or two at this point. He didn’t know if he wanted to keep going at this point.

The pain from his stump hand thrummed, the suit’s morphine reserves long run dry. His heart felt like it might explode in his chest, but his head felt numb and dizzy. He felt too many things at once. He suddenly realized someone was touching him.

Tommy held his arm up gingerly, inspecting the wound with a grim look on his face. He had a first aid kit (probably pulled from his lab coat, the man was a stickler for safety like that) and was rummaging through it, looking for something to help.

“This might sting a bit, Mr. Freeman.”

The burning from the rubbing alcohol melded into the rest of the pain Gordon felt, and he barely noticed. He watched the liquid pour off his arm.

“Tommy, I--- Gordon-- Gordon need blood,” he grunted out, vaguely waving his other hand, which Tommy gently pushed back down.

“I know, Mr. Freeman. Um, the med--the medkits here are already empty. But I’m sure we-we can find some others along the way!” He smiled down at Gordon, whose near-glassy eyes showed he probably didn’t hear him. Tommy wished he could help more.

He pulled out some gauze.

“Um, did you know, a-according to OSHA regulations the Black Mesa Research Facility is required to keep a medical station within every-- every 200 feet?” He recited facts about employee safety while bandaging the other man’s arm, hoping it could distract him from the touch that was bound to hurt.

Gordon couldn’t process much, but Tommy’s droning voice soothed him, and though his arm still shrieked in pain he suddenly felt like he could fall asleep right here and be safe and sound when he woke up.

Tommy gently patted Gordon’s face, keeping his drooping eyes from closing entirely, but his hand was soft and warm, so Gordon didn’t mind at all.

* * *

They had made it out. And now they were at Chuck E Cheese.

While everyone else was having fun eating the rat’s pizza or dancing their troubles away, Gordon was in the back sitting at the table with a cup of shitty grape soda and his head in his hands, quietly screaming.

Gordon didn’t think he could have imagined a torture worse than being trapped in Black Mesa, surrounded by aliens, betrayed by his friends and arm cut off, but then some weird yellow toddlers came in and literally exploded in his face, so he was having about as much fun as you’d fucking expect. Which was none.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Tommy’s birthday-- he was very happy for him, in fact-- it’s just that spending it at this _restaurant_ after surviving a literal alien apocalypse and killing the unkillable was maybe too much on his fragile mind. He just wanted to go home, take a shower, hug his son, and eat a fucking vegetable.

Gordon didn’t realize someone had slid into the seat next to his until they spoke up.

“Mr.-- Mr. Freeman! Are you enjoying the party?”

Gordon pulled his head from his hands to look up at Tommy, about to give him a quick remark, but was distracted by the man’s… well, his whole face. It was much easier to get a look at him now that he wasn’t only illuminated by the dim, broken lights of Black Mesa and they weren’t being chased by aliens. It also didn’t help that he was leaning into his personal space.

His eyes were bright yellow and glowing (oh yeah, son of the G-Man. Gordon should have guessed he wasn’t human) with glee. His mouth was stretched into a wide smile, and Gordon suddenly found himself staring at the other man’s lips, imagining what they felt like. (Were they soft?) Blinking quickly, he looked back up to his eyes (well, in-between-- looking at his eyes was like staring at the sun, he couldn’t do it for too long). Half of his mind lazily registered that the other man had a cute smattering of freckles, while the other half desperately stomped that part down into the dust. He did NOT need those thoughts right now.

“Yeah, uh, I’m having fun. Just kinda partied out right now.” He gave him a half smile, and Tommy apparently absorbed it, because his own smile got about 10 million times brighter. 

“Oh, that’s p- that’s p-p-- that’s good!” He said, his hands flapping now. Truthfully Gordon was not having fun at all, but Tommy looked over the fucking moon, so he thought it was okay that he lied a little bit. And maybe seeing the one person he was always able to trust made happier just because he was happy made staying here just a little bit easier. 

Maybe he liked him a little bit. Maybe more than a bit. Maybe a lot more than a bit.

He squashed down that annoying part of his brain again, and intently listened as Tommy launched into a spiel about food safety regulations, hands going a mile a minute. He could deal with that later.

* * *

OK, it was later, and Gordon needed to deal with it.

It had been almost two months since they saved the world, celebrated Tommy’s birthday, and gotten back to their normal lives. A lot had happened since then-- Benrey returned once again (he apologized to everyone and worked at a McDonald’s now), Bubby and Dr. Coomer finally got their shit together and got married, and also they all robbed a bunch of banks.

The bank heist was also the last time Gordon had directly talked to Tommy. 

Gordon was avoiding Tommy. Desperately.

Everyone had been trying to stay in touch, going to weekly meetups at a cafe or the park, and Gordon had to keep coming up with excuses not to go. _Sorry, Joshie has an after-school thing. Sorry, but my car broke down. Sorry, but I have a cold._

_Sorry, I’m just way too gay to face you all right now!_

Of course there was no excuse he could use to get himself away from Tommy now. He had once again avoided a meetup by saying he was feeling under the weather, and this time Tommy, with all the concern in the world in his voice, said _Gordon, you’ve been feeling sick a lot lately. Do you want me to-- to come over with some medicine?_ and Gordon’s dumb gay brain was spinning too much from not being called Mr. Freeman for once that he weakly agreed.

So now, here was Gordon, sitting on the couch covered in a hand-stitched quilt that Tommy had generously given him, with Tommy’s soft hand on his forehead, feeling for his temperature. Gordon knew he was perfectly healthy, but with the other man’s hand back on his face, gentle as always, he suddenly felt feverish.

His eyebrows were stitched down with concern, and his face was _close close close_ (maybe too close for someone who thought Gordon was sick, but he didn’t dare question it). Once again he was looking his face up and down, from his freckles to his pink lips, to his bright yellow eyes and soft black hair, and maybe his hairline was receding and maybe he had lines around his mouth and nose, but Gordon didn’t care. He could look at him forever.

“You feel fine,” Tommy said, pulling away and snapping Gordon out of his thoughts. “Are you sure-- are you sure you’re sick?”

Ah shit. Gordon chuckled nervously. “Um, you know, I think it was more my stomach--”

“Gordon.” 

Gordon shivered.

“Why do you keep avoiding everyone?” 

Suddenly Gordon found it very hard to look at Tommy, and took to pointedly looking literally anywhere but at him, pulling away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He bunched up the quilt, a generous gift that he absolutely did not deserve, in his fists.

Tommy placed his hand on his shoulder, and leaned back in _close close close_ like he didn’t know what personal space was. Personally, Gordon didn’t know how to breathe anymore.

“I’m not… I’m not avoiding _everyone_.” He floundered like a fish out of water.

“Just me?”

“Yeah,” he said before thinking. He slapped his prosthetic hand over his mouth in shock at himself, and slowly, very slowly, dragged his eyes over to Tommy.

He looked like a kicked puppy. 

“Did I-- Did I do something wrong?” Tommy asked, hurt in his voice. He took his hand from Gordon’s shoulder and started to lean back

“No-- wait!” Gordon quickly grabbed the taller man’s shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Tommy, I promise. I’m just dealing with all these fucking feelings right now.”

Oh, now it was Gordon’s turn to be way too close, as he realized that he had just pushed his face about a centimeter away from Tommy’s. 

“...what kind of… f-feelings?” He questioned, whispering. His eyes were glowing again. He could have easily taken Gordon’s hands off of him, but he didn’t move at all. Just stared. With his beautiful glowing fucking yellow eyes. Staring right into Gordon’s soul.

He could feel his breath, warm and waiting, against his face.

The house was way too silent. 

Gordon thought he might die.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but Tommy must have heard, because he leaned in that extra centimeter, and oh God. 

His lips were so soft.

Tommy moved his hands up to cover Gordon’s which were still clinging to his shoulders, and Gordon didn’t know how he could while staring at the two fucking suns that were Tommy’s eyes but closed his own and just basked in the feeling of Tommy’s lips against his. It was warm, his whole body was warm, and he was wearing a chapstick that tasted like strawberries, and holy shit it was better than any fantasy he had thought up over the months. Gordon’s lips were probably chapped to shit, actually, but he didn’t give a single damn, and Tommy didn’t seem to either because he pulled in closer and deepened the kiss, sliding his hands from Gordon’s up his arms to grasp his face, _gentle gentle gentle_ , and it vaguely reminded Gordon of some time months ago when everything was horrible, but he didn’t think about it because everything was so fucking amazing right now.

Eventually, Tommy pulled away. Gordon realized that his eyes were closed and opened them, peering at Tommy. They had only kissed a short while but Tommy was huffing, his freckles illuminated by a stark red blush going down to his neck. Gordon thought he looked fucking brilliant.

“Can we-- can I--” Gordon’s brain was short-circuiting. But he didn’t need to finish his sentence, because Tommy was nodding already, so he pulled him back in for another kiss. And another. And another.

* * *

Gordon didn’t ever think things could go this well.

He and Tommy had been dating for several months now, and Gordon loved every day of it. Gordon could finally stop avoiding his friends, and found that while hanging out with the Science Team (plus Benrey and occasionally Darnold) was nearly exactly as hectic as back in Black Mesa, it was much less dangerous, and he found himself enjoying their antics a lot more now that they weren’t going to get him killed. Tommy was unsurprisingly great with kids, and Joshie loved spending time with him and playing with Sunkist. 

They had even started talking about moving in together, which prompted the G-Man to have a stern talk with Gordon about treating his ‘progeny’ well (which was really nothing Gordon hadn’t heard before, but getting a shovel talk from your inhuman boyfriend’s extra-inhuman father at 3 AM on a Saturday was still kind of terrifying). 

For now, though, they were all bundled up on the couch, watching an animated movie. Joshie, who was the main reason they had decided to sit through the colorful slog on the television, was sound asleep, laying on Tommy, who had also drifted off at some point.

Gordon smiled as he watched the two people he loved most sleep. Eventually he would have to rouse them so they could properly go to bed, but he figured it could wait a while. Maybe he could even fall asleep too, the three of them cuddled together on the couch, safe and happy. When they awoke, Tommy would kiss him good morning, and Joshie would hug him and beg for pancakes, and Gordon’s back would probably be killing him but that was fine.

Gordon wouldn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> now with [fanart](https://gordos-feeman.tumblr.com/post/629018445694042112/have-some-gays-peoples-from-jewishtommycoolatta)!! go look at it!!!


End file.
